by Sandy James
Rebecca blinked back tears, fearing once she allowed them to flow, they might never stop. But, God, she desperately needed to let the crippling tension and emotion go. Crying would help her purge them.
Ganga spoke a few more words over Trishna in what Rebecca assumed was Hindi before the goddess glanced up and put her hand on Artair’s shoulder. “I will miss you, Artair MacKay. I thank you for the centuries of your loyalty and care for my Amazons. I hope you also find your reward. May you live a long mortal life and find love and peace before your days end.”
She disappeared as quickly as she’d arrived.
Centuries? The word twirled around Rebecca’s mind.
Beagan and Dolan scurried out to lead Artair toward the lodge. He dutifully followed, never glancing back.
Megan looked at Rebecca. “I’m going to take Sparks to get a shower and then to her cabin.”
“I’m fine,” Sparks insisted. “You two don’t have to pussyfoot around me. I’m not some old lady.”
“No one said you were,” Megan replied. “Why don’t we go have a smoke, catch a shower, and see if Beagan and Dolan can scare up some good whiskey?”
Sparks nodded.
“Want to join us, Rebs?” Megan asked, her eyes shifting between Rebecca and Rhiannon.
“No, thanks,” she replied. “I need to speak to my goddess. I’ll try to come over later, though. I could use a drink, so don’t let Sparks finish the whole bottle.”
Megan’s lips formed a hesitant smile as she nodded.
The Fires headed toward Sparks’s cabin. Rebecca wasn’t sure exactly how to talk to Rhiannon. How did a mere mortal start a conversation with a goddess?
“He is sad,” Rhiannon finally said, her eyes scanning Rebecca from head to toe.
She still came up short in Rhiannon’s opinion, but she’d stopped caring. This goddess held no love for her, and she refused to play the part of the desperate child begging for an indifferent parent’s affection. She was an Amazon. She stood proud before the goddess. “He blames himself.”
Rhiannon had probably come to tell her how disappointed she was in her pathetic performance in the unsuccessful rescue. She wasn’t up to a lecture—even one from her patron goddess.
“He should,” Rhiannon coolly replied, standing there like some medieval queen in her silver gown. “Trishna is dead because of his desire for you. I had hoped to convince him to stay, to keep him in Avalon. But his lust for you has made him useless in battle, and now I must release him. All because of his fascination with an immature Amazon who does not live up to her title.”
Goddess or not, Rebecca had reached her fill. She wasn’t surprised when a small earthquake roared beneath her feet. She was too weary and too angry to even try to control her powers. “I am not immature, and I will live up to the title. I held my own in that battle. I’ll be the Amazon I was meant to be.”
“Not if I send you home.”
“This is my home.”
Rhiannon frowned. “Perhaps if I remove you, Arthur can restore what he has lost. Perhaps he will stay with me—um—with the Amazons.” Rhiannon walked a slow circle around her, trailing a finger over Rebecca’s shoulder and her back.
If she didn’t get a grip, she would knock that condescending finger away. Although giving Rhiannon’s hand a smack might alleviate some of her tension, it wouldn’t help matters any. She didn’t even flinch when the goddess touched the raw, aching wound.
“What is so special about you, Rebecca Massee? What is unique? Why does he desire you? There have been many, many more over the centuries who have been far more deserving of his attentions.” Her revolution complete, the goddess stood before Rebecca and shook her head. “You are not worthy.” When Rebecca opened her mouth, Rhiannon stopped her reply with another flippant wave. “Oh, you are pretty, and you are somewhat clever. Yet there is nothing special about you, nothing that should draw my Arthur to your side.”
An irate shout startled Rebecca. “I am nae yer Arthur. He died centuries ago, and I cannot replace him.” In long, angry strides, Artair reached them. He threw a scowl at Rhiannon. “’Tis time to bring the other Amazons home and install the new Sentinel. I am away from here as soon as it can be arranged.”
The tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them. To have Artair say he was abandoning her, and to have a goddess—her goddess—so blatantly dismiss her was more than she could take. Rebecca stopped trying to stem the tears and let them slide down her cheeks.
She needed to wash away the blood, sweat and grime and spend her grief. Then she could breathe again. Then she could think. Then she could find some control.
She fixed a glare at Rhiannon. “I know you don’t want me here, but I’m not leaving. I won’t leave Megan.” The earth rumbled to punctuate her vow. “And I won’t leave Sparks. Or Gina and Sarita.” The branches of the trees began to twist at her command.
She focused that energy, that power flowing through her, and made the trees dance in a symphony of fury. She wanted Artair and Rhiannon to know the storm that raged in her heart. Emotions gave her power. Love, hurt and anger became a potent combination.
Turning to Artair, she rubbed her eyes to try to see him clearly. “You’re leaving me? You’re really leaving me?”
“Lass, I—”
The ground rumbled her displeasure. “Answer my question, Artair! Are you leaving me?”
Seconds passed in agonizing sluggishness.
“Aye.”
The trees stilled and the ground calmed. Rebecca’s despair ended her control and drained every last ounce of her power. “Damn you.”
“You are to stay away from him,” Rhiannon warned, wagging her finger at Rebecca. “For the remainder of his time with the Amazons, you will train with the Guardian, not the Sentinel.”
“Go to hell. Both of you.” Rebecca turned on her heel and stalked away.
* * *
Artair desperately wanted to pick her up and carry her away from this place—to save her from the fate that eventually befell all Amazons. Seeing Trishna die was horrifying. Losing Rebecca would kill him.
Yet he couldn’t save her, no matter how much he loved her. He’d seen the change in her. She was going to be everything she could be. Rebecca had become a true Amazon. There would be no turning back for her.
Artair faced Rhiannon. “Yer a goddess, nae a human. You should not be acting like a jealous chit.”
Rhiannon’s eyes flashed red. He didn’t care. What punishment could she give for his insolence that would hurt him more than losing Trishna?
Losing Becca.
“I will train my Amazons until the new Sentinel arrives. You have my loyalty, m’lady. But you may nae tell me to stay away from Becca.”
“She is not worthy to be called an Amazon. She is weak. Trishna is dead because of your love for that woman.”
He didn’t bother denying the truth—Rhiannon’s blame echoed his own.
“If you had not needed to save her—”
“Nay. She only needed me because she was protecting Megan’s back instead of her own. ’Tis my fault Trishna’s dead. ’Twas my sin, nae hers. I should have seen the trap.”
Rhiannon’s eyes, back to their more customary green, considered him. “Earth did show some…spirit.”
“Aye, she did. She didn’t flee. Nay, she freed Trishna, even as the filthy creatures surrounded them both. She saved Megan’s life, though it could’ve cost her own.”
“Perhaps I have misjudged her. Perhaps she may one day be worthy to be called Earth.”
It was more of a concession than he’d expected. The goddess had always been stubborn to a fault, but her softening toward Rebecca, slight though it was, boded well.
Artair saluted Rhiannon, laying his fist over his heart. “If ye will excuse me, m’lady. I must give instructions to the changelings. They must prepare Trishna for burial.”
“Go, Sentinel.” She disappeared in a flash of light.
Dawn had broken. The day wouldn�
�t be easy. They would have to lay Trishna to rest. He would have to talk to his Amazons to see what they’d gleaned from the fight. Maybe something they had witnessed would give them some clues as to Jin’s next move. His mind spinning, he grasped for something to ground him, to be an anchor in the storm.
Becca.
She would give him the stability he sought, his beacon in the darkness. She was exactly what he needed, and right now he needed her like he needed life itself.
* * *
The dark water lazily circled the shower drain. Rebecca wanted to banish the thick crustiness on her skin, feeling as if she would never be clean again. Her blood. Trishna’s blood. Revenant blood. A macabre mixture. She could feel the caked mess as she ran her hands over her hair, her arms, her face.
Placing her palms against the tile and bowing her head, she stopped fighting her feelings. Her body shook as she wept, and her bitten shoulder throbbed. She hadn’t known Trishna and could only wonder at how devastated Sparks must be. Their Amazon bond was strained, the overwhelming emotions of their loss blocking the sisterly connection.
Rebecca let the grief and frustration of the day go, hoping to keep her weakness from Sparks and Megan so she wouldn’t add to their burden. She would hide the magnitude of what she felt from Artair as well. She didn’t want him to still think she was weak.
Lifting her face, she let the heated water caress her cheeks and wash away the pain, replacing it with worry as Sparks’s words came back to haunt her. Despite the warmth of the water, a chill ran through her.
Something bad is after us, hunting us like animals. Something really, really bad.
But how could it get any worse than today?
She touched her wound. The zombie had gotten more neck than actual shoulder. So close to her jugular. She trembled as she recalled the revenant biting into Trishna’s neck, sending the Amazon’s blood spurting in all directions as her life bled out on the walls and floor of that abandoned warehouse.
Worse. It could get much, much worse.
Rebecca heaved a shuddering sigh, turned off the water and reached outside the shower stall. Fumbling her hand along the wall, seeking out her towel, her fingers finally brushed terrycloth. Then they passed over a hand. A human towel bar. The baritone chuckle and calloused skin were definitely not what she’d expected. She quickly covered her body, wrapping the terrycloth around her and tucking the corner between her breasts.
Stepping out of the shower, she resisted the urge to throw herself into Artair’s arms like some frightened child. She was an Amazon, damn it. She wasn’t supposed to fall apart. Surely he hadn’t needed to hug Megan or Sparks.
But then his eyes went all soft and welcoming and he opened those strong arms.
She went to him so fast, she stumbled into his embrace. He wrapped himself around her, holding her close. Then he kissed the top of her head.
“How are you, Becca mine?” His hand lightly touched her injured shoulder. “Have you recovered from battle?”
She snorted an unladylike laugh. “Battle? It wasn’t much of a battle. I killed a couple of people who were already dead.”
“You handled yourself well. You made me proud. ’Twas me who was disgraced.”
Pushing a little distance between their bodies, Rebecca looked up into those handsome green eyes. The hurt there ran through her heart as if it were her own pain. “You didn’t disgrace yourself.”
“I lost an Amazon.”
“No, you didn’t. We lost a sister. We all lost a sister.”
Artair rewarded her by hugging her tighter.
“You saved my life, Artair.”
He still didn’t reply.
“It’s not your fault Trishna died. It’s not my fault, either. Or Sparks’s or Megan’s. There’s only one person to blame. Her death was Jin’s fault.”
He didn’t even offer one of his typical growls or grunts to acknowledge the situation at the warehouse had been beyond their control. She couldn’t let him shoulder the blame.
“It’s not your fault, either, Artair.” She could hear the frustration in her own voice and tried to temper it. “It’s not.” She hugged him harder.
“Let me take you back to your cabin. We face a difficult day. You should get some sleep.”
“Why are you leaving me? Why are you leaving Avalon?” She hadn’t meant to ask, wanting to save that discussion until later when emotions weren’t spinning nearly out of control. Except she couldn’t help herself. The hurt of knowing he was going away felt too raw. She needed to understand.
His heavy sigh lasted a full five seconds. “I am fast approaching my birthday.”
“What does that have to do with why you’re leaving?”
His hands stroked her back. “Lass, do you know how long I have lived, all that I’ve seen? Death. Destruction. I need to know there will someday be an end, that one day I shall rest. A Sentinel cannot die. Not unless his heart is pierced. I don’t want to live forever for ’tis as much a curse as a blessing.”
Rebecca swallowed sympathetic tears, somehow knowing he didn’t need to hear her cry. Yet her heart ached for him, for everything he’d been through.
“Do you know how I came to be in Rhiannon’s service?”
“You never told me.”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever told anyone. My brother was murdered by the English. Oh, the history books call it a battle, but Culloden Moor was nothing but a slaughter.”
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. “Oh, Artair. I’m so sorry.”
“As we sorted through the dead and wounded, I found Darian, but it was too late. Some English pig had buried a sword in his gut. He shouldnae have been there. The lad’s hand had been crippled from birth, he didnae need to fight. I should’ve been looking out for him. I should have… But it was too late.”
Every word was like a stab to her heart. “It’s not your fault.”
“Aye, ’twas my fault, and I kenned it. I was his older brother, but I’d raised him from his third summer when our parents died with the fever. I was more like his father, and I was his laird. I should have made sure he stayed behind as I ordered. When I saw his lifeless eyes, I fell to my knees and begged that he be spared. I promised anything—even my own life—to bring him back. Rhiannon heard me and offered a chance to save Darian in return for teaching her warriors. I didnae give it a second thought. I’ve been Sentinel since that day.”
“Did you ever see him again?”
“Nay. ’Tis forbidden. Rhiannon would have wiped his thoughts of ever knowing me. She’d do the same for my entire clan.”
“If you’ve been Sentinel for so long, why leave now?”
His fingers tangled in her wet hair. “I want my mortality back. I want a family, Becca. A wife. A son. A home. I want the things I can never have as Sentinel. When the lasses return to the world, the loneliness is sometimes more than I can bear.”
She’d always wanted the same. A family. She could be his wife. She could give him a son. She could make a beautiful home for him. If only she wasn’t an Amazon…
The fickle Fates had chosen another path for her, just as they were guiding Artair on a road that led away from the Amazons. From her.
“I understand.” But she didn’t.
“On my birthday, I shall be only a few years shy of three hundred years.”
Rebecca bit the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking. What must it have been like to experience so much change in the world? How many people had he loved and lost? Dozens? Hundreds? How many graves had he stood over, wishing it would be the last? How many years had he spent alone?
When had a man lived too long?
Perhaps three centuries.
“I’m not leaving you, Becca mine. I’m going back to a life, to being a man. I cannot bury another generation. I cannot lose Sparks. I cannot lose—” A deep, shuddering sigh swept through him. “You best get some rest, lass. ’Tis a new day, and the other Amazons and yer new Sentinel will be here before evening.”
With an obedient nod, Rebecca pulled away. Staring up into his eyes, she smoothed her fingertips over his whisker-covered cheeks and tried to find words to explain the weight he’d put on her heart, to explain how much she had come to love him.
And she did love him—more than the stubborn Scot would ever know. More than she’d realized until that very moment. Oh, yes, she loved him.
But she wouldn’t be a burden, an undertow dragging him to a future he didn’t desire. She opened her mouth to speak, but she didn’t trust what would spill from her lips. Would she release him? Or would she beg him to stay?
She fled to the silence of her cabin.
Chapter Fifteen
They laid Trishna to rest on the gently sloping hillside reserved as the blessed burial grounds for Amazons. Rebecca hadn’t expected any kind of religious service, but she was surprised all four of the goddesses showed up.
Their diversity was striking. Exotically beautiful, Ganga wore a black sari and her hair was woven into a thick, dark braid that brushed her hips. Although Ix Chel had the same ebony hair, it was straight and sleek. Her clothing brought to mind Mexico—a flowing brown skirt and an ivory peasant shirt embroidered with shimmering threads. Her skin was the color of caramel.
As light as the other goddesses were dark, Rhiannon and Freya were dressed in their customary medieval gowns. Rhiannon’s was white and probably disrespectful considering the circumstances. Her hair fell around her shoulder in a riot of blond curls. At least Freya’s navy blue was more appropriate, and she’d contained her white-blond hair in a whisper-thin veil.
Rhiannon stared down at the simple pine coffin. “A first, I believe.”
Freya arched a quizzical eyebrow. “What say you?”
“’Tis odd to bury Air and Water before Fire. Seems as though your Amazon is usually the first to perish.”
“That is enough.” Ganga set her hands against her slender hips and narrowed her eyes at Rhiannon and Freya. “Today is for remembering my Trishna. This is neither the time nor place for your petty quarrels.”